The Final Blow

Unimaginable is the hurt.  Unthinkable is the pain.  Trying to imagine a mind that could use the tongue so violently to hurt another is inconceivable.  Sometimes it would be better to hold your tongue.  Reign back on the leash of that awful beast.  There are only so many thrashings a body can take while here on this earth.

Don’t be the one to throw that fatal blow

Sometimes putting into words how you feel is painful

Sometimes those words would rip apart worlds

Other times the words can mend canyons of pain

Those same words rearranged could sink a ship

Is it better to go on with the knowledge that nothing matters

Is it true that your life has been a sham

Is that what people you love think about you

People that you have tried to help slice at you arteries

Wicked is the tongue that cuts so deep with purpose

Wicked is the mind that thinks only of themselves

To undo such words cannot be done

To put the layers of skin back on the heart challenging at best

To try to mask the pain and torment brings tears

And I will not wipe the tears away

Let them stain my face, my shirt, and my pants

Let not a tear touch the ground

The tears will stop after my heart

My tears will follow me on my journey

Between the breaths of the worlds I will be free

Only to awaken with wet eyes and wonder why

Starting a new journey shackled with unknown pain

Would be better than living and knowing

To not know why you cry

Would be better than knowing

To carry a burden for eternity

Would be better than carrying it for a lifetime